It's Just Empathy
by theyHAUNTme
Summary: Sara woke up in the middle of the night hearing a victim's screams. GSR


**It's Just Empathy**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything of CSI, I'm just borrowing two of the characters who aren't even there anymore.

**Summary:** Sara wakes up in the middle of the night, hearing a victim's screams.

**Spoilers:** _Empty Eyes_ and _Sex, Lies, and Larvae_

**A/N:** I haven't written anything new in awhile, sorry. I was watching reruns of CSI the other day and a few storylines popped into my head, so I had to write and post them. And this is not betaed, I just wrote it on a whim.

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Sara stood in front of the television set. A photograph of David Marlon, AKA Marlon Front flashed across the screen. His brown hair was unkempt and unclean as his dark eyes shone with malice. Sara had been so foolish to believe that Frost was the victim. Hatred and hurt burned through her, agonizing her from the inside out. Her eyes stung as she replayed the case over and over again in her head. She couldn't escape the rasping croak of Cammie's last few words. She had watched the girl die right before her eyes. As Frost had stated, she watched the light and life disappear from her eyes and grow empty. She could still feel Cammie's touch burning into her hand. She had held Marlon Frost's hand in the exact same way, and that repulsed her. She had felt sympathy for the bloodied man whom she believed to be yet another victim.

She sensed another's person presence in the room. Grissom walked up behind her and stared at the TV along with her. The news reporter was now identifying all of the showgirls and their ages.

"I held his hand," Sara choked out. Her voice faltered. "Just like I held hers. And I lost perspective."

The stinging tear leaked from her eyes and let a trail of moisture down her sallow cheeks. She bit her tongue, and turned to face Grissom. His face fell when he saw her tears. She returned her gaze back to the television set as Grissom kept his eyes on Sara. This wasn't going to get them very far. He reached over and wiped away her tears with his index finger. Sara faced him. She read in his eyes that they should go home where he could comfort her in private. It pained him to leave her standing there, crying, and do nothing. He wished for nothing else but for the chance to enfold her in his arms. He wanted to hold her tight and kiss her cheek tenderly. He wanted to stroke her back soothingly and tell her everything would be okay, even when he was sure it wouldn't be.

Sara nodded and turned to leave. Grissom shut the TV off and joined her. It was between shifts; nobody was lingering in the hall. All of night shift was at home trying to repress the memories of that evening. The only person in sight was a shy janitor; Natalie, was her name, Grissom believed. He risked wrapping his arm around Sara's thin waist and led her outside. She melted into his side, fighting with whatever was left of her energy to restrain her sobs. Tears leaked down her cheeks, stinging the cut she had sustained when Cammie had believed that Sara had been the killer, returning to finish her up. Sara bit her lip in a poor attempt to fight back the tears. Grissom could tell she was nearing her breaking point, and tucked her more securely into his side. He stroked the fabric around her abdomen, soothing her slightly.

They made it to the car. Grissom opened up the passenger door and helped her in. He walked around to his door. He got buckled in and began driving home only when Sara was strapped in as well. The ride to his townhouse was quiet. Nobody spoke. The only sound was the soft purr of the car's engine and the occasional screeching of brakes. Grissom glanced over at Sara periodically and saw the same thing each time. A pale woman sat in the seat next to him, her brown eyes brimmed with moisture. Pain was reflected in those deep brown orbs and hurt was etched across her beautiful facial features. Her hand were gripping into fists on her lap as she mechanically stared out the window, watching the cars and tourists whiz past. Grissom tentatively reached across and pulled her cold hand into his. Sara continued to stare out the window, as if she couldn't feel his touch. The only recognition she gave him was a gently squeeze to his hand as she kept hers tucked into his.

The ride continued with way. Grissom pulled up to the townhouse and he and Sara walked up to the front door. Hank bounded up to them but at once settled down. It was as if the boxer could tell there was something wrong with his owners. He licked Grissom's and Sara's hands before scurrying off to the living room. Sara headed to the shower to clean up while Grissom fed the dog. Hank appreciated his meal and the bathroom break. Afterwards, Grissom headed to the shower to check on Sara while Hank plopped down on the living room floor and snoozed.

Grissom could hear the water running. As soon as he opened the bathroom door, he was met with a plume of steam. The air was humid inside the bathroom from the intensity of the heat of the plummeting water. Grissom could hear Sara sobbing. He quickly stripped and stepped into the scorching spray. His skin burned and turned red. Sara was folded into herself, her arms wrapped around her naked torso. She was leaning up against the side of the shower to keep her balance. Her eyes were red and bloodshot and her skin was bright red. Grissom quickly cooled the water before encompassing Sara's dripping form into his arms. Her forehead rested against his bare shoulder. She was still hugging herself, as if she would shatter into a million pieces if she lessened her hold.

"Oh, honey," he murmured, his heart twisting. "You can't keep doing this to yourself."

This was definitely the wrong thing to say. Sara wrenched herself from his grasp and squeezed herself tighter. She stepped out of the shower, sobbing harder, and wrapped herself in a towel. She ran to the bedroom and slammed the door shut. The tears cascaded down her cheeks in rivers. She dried herself and pulled on a pair sweatpants and one of Grissom's sweatshirts. His smell wafted around her and she fell onto the bed and cried.

A knock at the door startled her, although it was to be expected. Sara was hugging a pillow to her chest, allowing it to capture her falling tears.

"Go away, Gil!" she shouted, her voice muffled by the pillow.

Oblivious to her command, Grissom entered the room. His heart tore at the sight before him. Sara was curled into a defensive ball and she was rocking herself. Whether or not she was aware of her rocking, Grissom didn't know. He walked over to her and sat down on the edge of the bed. Sara curled away from him, still holding the pillow. He hesitantly looked at her before stroking her arm. Sara stiffened and tried to pulled away from him. Grissom moved towards her. Although he usually respected her need for space every now and then, he could somehow tell that space would only make it worse. He sat next to her stroking her arm gently while she cried. He said nothing; he only observed.

"Sara, please," he whispered, "talk to me."

Sara was silent for a few moments. Grissom was about to speak again when she whispered, "I can't, Gil. I just can't talk about it right now. I just want everything to disappear. I want to wake up tomorrow and find that this all was just a horrid nightmare."

Grissom sighed. He lay down beside her and said, "I can't promise you that, sweetheart. But I can promise you that I will still be here tomorrow if you want me here. I'll be with you until you need me."

Sara turned to look at him. Ever though her eyes were red and blotchy, even though her hair was a tangled mess, she still looked like the most beautiful person in existence. Sara moved closer to him. He opened his arms and murmured, "Come here, beautiful."

She snorted and said, "Beautiful? I'm a mess."

"You're perfect," he whispered into her ear.

Grissom held her through the night. Somewhere between the tears, Sara fell asleep. Grissom was on the verge of following when he heard a whimper. He forced his eyes open and gazed at the beautiful body lying next to him. Her eyes were shut but she was mumbling.

"Cammie, talk to me," she moaned faintly. "Who did this to you? No, no, no, keep talking, Cammie. Don't leave, you're going to be okay."

Sara was struggling in her sleep as Grissom gently tried to rouse her. Sara's dark eyes shot open and she glanced wildly around the room, as if searching for something. Or someone. She finally realized where she was and the tears brimmed again. She angrily brushed away the wetness as she pulled her knees to her chest. Grissom sat up with her and stared at her while she rocked. He snaked his arm around her waist. She leaned her head up against his chest while she sighed.

"She didn't deserve this," Sara murmured, sparing at nothing in particular. "None of those girls did. But Frost just thought he could do whatever he wished, and took what he wanted. He doesn't give a damn about those girls. He doesn't care that six families are grieving for the lives lost last night. You heard what Brass said...Frost told him he felt nothing. He felt no remorse over what he had done, and he would do it again if he had the chance!"

Grissom hugged her tightly as she listened to her vent. Violent crimes where women fall at the hands of men had always been a touchy subject for her. Grissom suddenly had a flash back to seven years prior.

_"You wanna sleep with me?"_

_Grissom stared at Sara, incredulous. He set his spoon down, removed his glasses, and asked, "Did you just say what I think you said?"_

_"That way, when I wake up in a cold sweat under the blankets, hearing Kaye's screams," Sara said, her voice shaking, "you can tell me it's nothing...it's just empathy."_

"Honey, you can't make everything function they way you want it to," Grissom said softly after awhile. "Not everybody is good, and you can't force them to be. What we do sheds light into people's darkest hour by catching the person who murdered their brother, their sister, their son, their daughter. You did everything you could. You caught Marlon Frost before he killed again. He won't go unpunished for his crimes. You were even with Cammie when she died...you were the last thing she saw before she died. I hope I'm lucky enough to have that happen."

Sara stayed in his arms through his speech. She knew that not everybody lived to be great, but that didn't stop her from trying. She lay back down and curled up against Grissom's solid form. She rested her head on his shoulder and had her stomach touch his side. Her fingers gently played across his chest. His fingers trailed across her satin smooth skin as they held each other.

"I should've said yes," Grissom muttered.

Sara furrowed her brow in confusion.

"When you asked me to sleep with you all those many years ago," he clarified. "When I told you you had too much empathy. You told me that you would wake up in the middle of the night hearing their screams...I never believed you until now. I'm so sorry, sweetheart. I never should have waiting this long. How did I get so lucky with you?"

Sara smiled for the first time that day. She had forced several smiles to all of her coworkers all day, but this was the first real grin she'd shown. She kissed his shoulder and murmured, "Because you finally pulled your head out of your ass and saw what was right before your eyes. And I'm so glad you did...I was getting a little tired of chasing you around."

Grissom smiled at her and kissed her forehead. Sara closed her eyes and traveled to the dark abyss. Grissom watched her for the longest moment before drifting off to sleep. The last conscious thought to run through his head was the thought that he would be here to sleep with her every night to soothe her after the screaming was over. He would hold her until she told him to leave. And he hoped with all his might that the day she told him to leave would never come.

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**A/N 2:** Hope you liked it. Reviews are very welcome


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